Trading Places
by Khiori
Summary: Saavik must track down an old enemy, or remain broken forever. (OC from Khiori, in progress.)


Saavik groaned. Her body shook spasmodically in waves of fevered chills and her mind rolled wildly. Something was not right.

Where am I?

She forced her eyes open and very nearly vomited. The room whirled, a painful glaring swirl of light and smell. She fought for control and managed to slowly still the room, if not her head. She realized she was lying on an unfamiliar bed.

And that she was restrained.

What–?

She pulled weakly at the heavy medical straps which captured her wrists and ankles, confused.

A Vulcan healer came into the room, rich brown robes somehow soothing on her eyes. He carried a tray. He set it down beside her bed and looked intently at her.

"Would you care for some water?"

Saavik found she was horrifically thirsty. She nodded, grimacing as her mind immediately rocked. "Thank you," she said hoarsely.

He tilted his head, eyebrows drawing together. "It is illogical to thank one for duty."

Saavik felt something very akin to fear.

Why am I his duty?

He placed a clear drinking straw in the cup and moved it to her lips. Her thirst was suddenly overwhelming and she drank thirstily. For some reason, the cool water made her head ache.

He nodded, apparently pleased that she drank and when it was empty, took the cup away. He lifted a hypo spray.

The whirl of her mind abruptly focused and she pulled against the restraints.

"What is that?"

"Medicine. It will ease you." He leaned forward and pressed it against her throat before she could pull away.

It burned through her system and she sighed as an overwhelming calm filled her. Her mind stilled and her body felt unnaturally heavy. She fought against the desire to sleep.

The healer studied her a moment and called out.

Two human assistants came in and undid her restraints. They lifted her from the bed carefully and took her to a washing table. They carefully removed her medical smock and bathed her. Saavik found herself in and out of awareness and fought a dull anger at the lack of control. They brushed out her hair and redressed her in another smock. By then her bed had been completely overhauled and when they returned her to it and refastened the restraints, the crisp cleanliness lulled her entirely into sleep.

She woke screaming and fighting the restraints, bringing the robed healer back with another hypo spray. This one sent her into the blackness almost instantly.

She awoke next when the healer returned, this time with a nourishing soup. He set his tray beside her bed and tilted his head to study her.

"Are you . . . feeling . . . better?"

Enough to begin getting angry. Saavik eyed him carefully back. "Who are you?"

That lifted an eyebrow but he said nothing, merely waiting. At last Saavik sighed. "I am better."

He leaned forward, his dark eyes searching hers. Saavik wondered what he was looking for. It made an uneasy feeling stir in her stomach.

"How does your mind . . . feel?"

Her brow creased. Why? But her attention turned automatically inward.

No dizziness. No pain. Only. . . .

She frowned slowly. "Different."

He moved ever so slightly closer, his earlier curiosity returning. "Explain."

But Saavik's eyes narrowed. "Where am I?"

Had he been anything other than Vulcan, she knew he would have scowled. He turned on his heel and went out of the room. He came back with two dark robed Vulcans.

Saavik paled. "Gol? Why do you bring Gol?"

None of them said anything. The healer in the brown robes stepped to her side again. "Describe." His voice held absolutely no inflection.

A flash of something went through her mind but vanished before she could grasp it. But it left behind a growing sense of dread.

Saavik swallowed. "I do not know."

The healer tilted his head. "You noted a difference. Explain."

Saavik looked at the two from Gol. She took a deep breath. "Not . . . the same." She concentrated internally. And sighed. "I cannot describe what I do not understand."

The healer's lips thinned. He glanced at the two. They calmly took positions on either side of her bed. The healer gave Saavik a stern look. "Do not resist, you will only cause further injury to your mind. Allow them to inspect."

Again the something flashed through her mind. This time it was accompanied by a memory of . . . darkness. Saavik's eyes nearly rolled in panic but she clamped it down violently and held herself still while long fingers reached down from either side to touch her face.

She inhaled sharply, bracing herself.

We would not harm thee.

We seek only to correct the harm done thee.

A gentle sense of peace flowed around the outside of her mind, calming waiting for permission to enter.

But the confusion returned along with the feel of the restraints and Saavik found she was . . . afraid.

If they were trying to help, then why was she being held this way?

Again the darkness moved in her mind.

What had been done to her?

Old instincts rose defensively and her teeth clenched.

With almost a whisper of a sigh, the two withdrew. They turned. Saavik's gaze followed theirs to the door and her eyes widened.

T'Lar stood regally just inside, her piercing eyes dismissing them. The healer and the two bowed and slipped quietly past her. She waited until the doors closed behind them and then moved to Saavik's bed, her sober robes flowing about her. She looked down at Saavik sternly.

"Thee knowest me?"

Saavik bowed her head as best as she could. "I do. Thee bonded me to Spock and gave me mine charge."

T'Lar's dark eyes seemed to ease for a moment, then they sharpened again. "Yet thee fight mine."

Saavik felt a blush rise in her cheeks. And anger. "Why am I bound? What has happened to me? Why will the healer not speak?"

T'Lar studied her face. "Thee is not ready."

Saavik's eyes sparked fire. "I do not care."

One fine eyebrow rose. "Thee will."

"Tell me now."

T'Lar was silent a long moment. Then she took a breath. "Saavik of Vulcan, what dost thee know of the katra?"

Saavik felt a profound chill. "What has been done to my mind?"

T'Lar's eyes were very piercing. "What dost thee last recall from beyond this room?"

Darkness.

Saavik swallowed. The flash was gone again and in its place was. . . .

Hands reaching for her.

And pain. Pain like she had never known in all her life. Shearing, unbearable pain.

T'Lar's light touch on her arm snapped her back into the present and Saavik realized she was now breathing hard, her skin wet with sweat. She closed her eyes tightly to summon control.

And found that it mockingly continued to evade her.

"Forgive me." She turned shame filled eyes on T'Lar. "My discipline is poor."

But T'Lar raised a reproving eyebrow. "Why dost thee accuse thyself?"

Saavik blinked, confused. "This . . . lack . . . is not mine?"

We seek only to correct the harm done to thee.

. . . What dost thee know of the katra?

Saavik felt worry. "This was done to me?"

T'Lar looked down at her hands. "Dost thee recall thy husband's Refusion?"

The memories, so bitter and hopeful all at once leapt to her mind. She could hear the bright chimes; feel the scorching heat of Vulcan's sun on her skin. It had been her first time on Vulcan and all she had thought of was him. His katra trapped in Doctor McCoy's slowly maddening mind, his newly Genesis-restored body giving Gol the possibility of making what had not been done for millennia–what had almost become mere myth–a reality. The Refusion. The rejoining of what had become separated. The mind and the body again one.

But what did his Refusion have to do with her?

Saavik felt frustration. She pulled at her restraints. "I do not understand, T'Lar!"

T'Lar's eyes were very intense. "What is the Sixth Law of Reason?"

Saavik frowned. "'Opposition in all things.' But I do not understand what this has to do with-"

And then, just like that, she did. And full fledge panic returned.

"No! No, T'Lar–I am here!"

T'Lar's eyebrow lifted dryly. "Thy katra is most . . . distinct . . . fear not that it has escaped mine attention."

Her brow drew together hard. "But–but then what-"

T'Lar took a long breath and then she calmly took the bowl of soup off the tray the healer had brought in. She set it carefully aside and then removed the spoon and the hypo spray that accompanied it. She lifted the smooth metal tray off the table and then hesitated.

And turned the reflective surface towards Saavik.

It took the healer and the two from Gol to hold her down long enough for T'Lar to administer the hypo spray. And as Saavik fell screaming into the darkness she knew only one horror.

That reflection in the mirror.

It had been _Valeris_.


End file.
